Someone Else
by Loud-Bass-Woman
Summary: Someone is breaking up with Draco. But Draco doesn't care. Why? Because he left the one he really loves at home...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is something that my twisted little mind came up with a few days ago. It may be a little bit weird (and twisted), but I would still appreciate reviews! And you have to tell me if I should leave this as a one- shot fic, or develop it into a [short] story. It's rated R because it deals with quite mature themes - what themes it contains, I will not tell you (I want you to be surprised!) but be warned! Read at your own risk!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~Someone Else~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
You look at me, sadness and hurt in your eyes.  
  
"I'm . . . I'm breaking up with you," you say quietly, obviously feeling so very important to tell me this in such a responsible way.  
  
So what? Why do I care? It's not like I ever loved you anyway.  
  
You were just a convenience.  
  
"Are you alright?" you ask softly, obviously mistaking my silence for grief.  
  
As if. Why you assume that I would ever grieve over you, I cannot fathom. Pathetic boy.  
  
I stay silent.  
  
"Look, Draco, I don't mean to hurt you, but . . . this just isn't working for me anymore," you say gently, trying not to 'hurt' me anymore.  
  
I stay silent just to make you think you're hurting me.  
  
Did you ever actually hurt me? No. Did you want to? No. You thought I loved you, you idiot. You put your faith and trust in me. Turns out like you picked the wrong person to fall in love with.  
  
"Draco, say something . . . please," you say.  
  
"What do you want me to say?" I say, my voice showing no emotion.  
  
Because I feel none right now.  
  
Do I feel hurt that you're breaking up with me? No. Did I ever love you? Hell no. The only person I have ever loved is . . . him. And you took me away from him. I only went to Hogwarts because you were here. If you had never been born, then I would never had had to go to Hogwarts. I never would've had to leave him.  
  
"Look, Draco, the reason I'm breaking up with you is . . . you don't love me anymore," you say.  
  
I guess you DID realize after all.  
  
"I tried to convince myself that it wasn't so, that it was just the Malfoy part of you playing up, but . . . now I realize that you're Malfoy all over," you say.  
  
Well, you're right. There is no Draco in me. Draco died a long time ago. There's none of him left inside me anymore. All there is, is some twisted creation of what the one I love made me.  
  
You look at me, and I can see the pain evident in your eyes.  
  
"There's someone else, isn't there?" you say quietly.  
  
Of course there is, you stupid great prat. What did you think? Did you think that you were my first? Did you think that I actually felt something towards you all those times we had sex? Did you think that YOU could change me, because YOU were so SPECIAL?  
  
Never.  
  
There's no part of me that you could've changed. I belong to him. I've belonged to him for a long time. Some stupid relationship won't change that. He was angry when he found out about us. Very angry. Angry that he had to share me with someone else.  
  
Every time I went to visit him and he saw the marks you left on me, he'd hit me. Again and again and again. Crucio me. Hit me. Kick me. Then he'd fuck me. It was always hard, it was always rough. Sometimes it lasted the whole night. It was the same every time I went to see him. A pattern.  
  
"Draco, talk to me. I KNOW there's someone else. I want to . . . I want to know who I lost you to, at least," you say.  
  
"You never had me, Potter," I spit.  
  
It's true, though. I only have one owner. Him. Not you, Potter. All you were to me was a convenience. And I have had many of those through the years. But you didn't want to believe it, did you? Thought that you could change my ways, tame me, keep me faithful to you?  
  
Your own fault.  
  
You can't change the past, Potter. You of all people should know that.  
  
"Look, Draco . . . despite what you may think, I still love you," you say.  
  
How much of an idiot ARE you, Potter? I KNOW that you love me. I made no move to stop it, because I thought that you'd have enough brains to go away and fuck the Weasel or the mudblood.  
  
Turns out I underestimated your idiocy once again.  
  
"I know," I say quietly. "You can't change me, Potter. You tried, but you couldn't. And now you have to suffer for it," I say.  
  
"Draco . . . you never really loved me, did you?" you ask so quietly that I can barely hear you.  
  
"No. I didn't. And I never will. I only belong to one person, Potter," I say flatly.  
  
You look at me, tears shining in your emerald green eyes.  
  
"Potter . . . it was always Potter. I called you by your first name, Draco, why couldn't you do the same?" you whisper, a tear dripping down your face.  
  
Because I couldn't. You didn't deserve it. You're the one who made me go to Hogwarts, after all. If it weren't for you, I would be at home, with the one I REALLY love.  
  
"Because you're my enemy. You always have been, and always will be," I say simply.  
  
You swallow, desperate not to let any more tears fall in front of me. I wonder why. It's not like I care. It's not like I feel anything for you. I don't even hate you for keeping me away from him. I used to. But not anymore.  
  
You take a deep breath.  
  
"Tell me . . . who is it? The one that holds your heart?" you ask.  
  
Oh come on Potter. You don't have to put it that way. You know I don't have a proper heart. My heart is made out of stone. But it only beats for him.  
  
"You really wanna know?" I ask him.  
  
He nods.  
  
And, tell me, WHY should I tell you, Potter? So you can tell the mudblood and the Weasel? All the Gryffindors? The whole school? Hey, tell them. I don't care. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I love him.  
  
I look him in the eye.  
  
And speak the name of the one I love. The one who has hurt me too many times than I care to remember. The one that killed the Draco in me when I was six. The one that I keep running back to despite all the times that he has hurt me. The one who doesn't even need to use force anymore to get me to sleep with him. The one that brings me nothing but pain.  
  
And I still love him. He is my everything.  
  
I allow a manic smile to cross my face.  
  
"Lucius Malfoy." 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Yay people reviewed yay! I rock! (not really) Thanks so much for reviewing this, guys! You don't know how much this means to me!!! :::starts weeping with joy::: Anyway, I think that this is the concluding chapter to 'Someone Else' (just two chapters, yes, I know it's bad). But, still, look on the bright side - I might be persuaded to write a THIRD chapter if you bribe me with cookies (and reviews) . . .  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~Someone Else~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"What the . . .?" you start, clearly not getting it. Your eyes suddenly widen in realization. "No . . ." you whisper softly. "No. No no no! You can't be serious! You //can't// be!" you cry.  
  
And why on earth NOT, Potter? Just because you've never had someone love you doesn't mean that you can assume what it feels like and start criticizing me about it.  
  
My expression seems to give my thoughts away.  
  
"Because it's sick. It's sick, and it's . . . it's WRONG!" you cry, eyes somewhat glistening.  
  
Anger starts to fill me.  
  
"Don't you dare talk about what you don't know, Potter!" I snap.  
  
Your eyes widen again.  
  
"It's true, isn't it? You . . . you . . . you live in some twisted world where you're obsessed with . . . with your own father," you say, green eyes still wide in wonderment.  
  
"It's not an obsession," I sneer. I smile maniacally again. "It's love," I say dreamily, thinking of him.  
  
"No. No, no, Draco, it isn't, it //isn't// love. Look, whatever Lucius has made you believe, it is //not// love, he doesn't love or care for anybody, he //can't//!" you cry, desperately trying to get me to change my mind. As if I can do that.  
  
All your little speech does is make me all the more angry, you insolent little brat.  
  
"How dare you! How dare you even //assume// that you know what sort of relationship me and Lucius have! He loves me! He does, I //know// he does!" I hiss.  
  
"You don't have a //relationship//!" you spit. "What you //have// is some wacko spell on you, to amuse Lucius's twisted little mind!" you spit.  
  
Before I can control myself, I strike you across the face. How DARE you talk about my father that way? How dare you say he has a twisted mind? You're the twisted one, Potter, what with your heroic morals, and your heroic abilities, and your simple heroic-ness! It's all YOUR fault that I had to COME to Hogwarts in the first place, JUST to keep an eye on you.  
  
If Voldemort had killed you the first time, I could've been staying at home with him, but NO. You just had to keep getting lucky.  
  
You look at me, holding the side of your face, which is becoming quite red, and I bet my eyes are blazing in anger.  
  
"Bastard," I spit quietly.  
  
"He //doesn't// love you," you say, dropping down to your knees. You move forward, staring up at my face with those too-bright green eyes of yours. "He //doesn't//, OK? He's just playing with your //mind//, Draco. He's making you //believe// that he loves you, and that you love him, when neither of you really love each other!" you say quietly, in a pleading sort of voice.  
  
To your surprise, I hit you across the face again.  
  
"You complete and utter BASTARD. Of //course// he loves me. Why else would he-" I cut myself off, drifting into my sweet memories. "Why else would he make love to me? Then hit me. Make me cry. Then kiss away my tears. And fuck me again," I whisper, that same smile appearing on my face again.  
  
I look down at you.  
  
I see hurt and disbelief in your eyes.  
  
"No." you start shaking your head. "No, no, NO! It's NOT true! Draco, can't you see that he doesn't love you, not one bit, not at //all//! Why else would he hurt you?" you ask quietly, in that pleading voice again.  
  
I stare down at you coldly, trying to bore holes through your eyes with my gaze.  
  
"You can't have true love without hurt," I say icily.  
  
"Draco . . . Draco, please. Please, just //listen// to yourself. You're in love with your own //father//. And you . . . he . . . he //hurts// you, he does things that people aren't supposed to do," you say quietly, still on your knees, a bruise forming on your cheek.  
  
"Potter, don't you think I //know// that? That's what makes our love . . . unique," I say, drifting off into sweet memories again.  
  
I quickly shake myself out of my reverie and look down at you.  
  
"Draco, look, I'm on my //knees// for you, I'm //begging// you to-" you start, but I cut you off.  
  
"To fuck you? It's not the first time," I sneer. "I'm going home for the Christmas holidays. I'll be leaving to see him tomorrow," I say coldly.  
  
You shake your head, slowly at first, then quicker.  
  
"No." you say. "No, I will NOT let you go back to that . . . that . . . that cold-hearted evil MONSTER!" you yell.  
  
Before you know what's happening, my foot connects with your stomach, leaving you winded.  
  
"How dare you, Potter?" I ask quietly, venom dripping from every syllable. "How DARE YOU CALL HIM THAT?" I roar, savagely punching you across the face. You gasp softly in surprise. I punch you again. Blood spurts out of your nose, but I don't care. I keep hitting you across the face, then I kick you in the stomach again, making you drop onto the cold stone floor.  
  
You manage to look at me amongst all the blood on your face. I see that you are crying. Do I care? No. You bastard. You deserve everything I've done to you. And everything I'm going to do . . .  
  
With that, I smile manically, and kick you in the stomach again. I keep delivering vicious kicks to your lower abdomen, over and over again.  
  
"Draco . . . please . . ." you manage to rasp.  
  
"Shut UP! Just shut UP Potter, for once in your life, shut UP! I love HIM! Not you, it'll NEVER be you! You CAN'T change that, you idiot, you CAN'T!" I yell, punctuating each hollered word by backhanding you across the face. I knee you in the stomach, then ruthlessly grab your hair, and bash your head against the wall.  
  
Blood.  
  
Beautiful red-brown blood. Blood, flowing down the side of the wall, blood, flowing down the side of your face. I slam your head against the wall again, desperate to draw more blood. I keep smashing that head of yours, with those green eyes of yours now closed, against the hard wall, again and again and again.  
  
I eventually let go of your body, letting you fall to the floor.  
  
There's blood trickling out of your mouth.  
  
Blood everywhere.  
  
Blood on the wall, on the floor, on your body . . . and on my hands.  
  
I kneel down next to you, putting my fingers on your neck gently.  
  
There is no pulse.  
  
I sigh.  
  
"I knew you'd picked the wrong person to fall in love with. But did you listen to me, Potter? No." I quietly tell you.  
  
I stand up.  
  
I look at your lifeless body once more.  
  
I allow an insane smile to softly graze my features.  
  
Father will be so proud. 


End file.
